


Written In Stars, Haunted By Shadow

by beware_phangirl (dantiloquent)



Series: One Shots [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU, Angst, M/M, Soulmate AU, angst with fluff, kind of happy ending dw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 04:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2927513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dantiloquent/pseuds/beware_phangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: It’s a world where your soulmate’s last words to you are printed on your skin, but Phil doesn’t know any different. And instead of living in fear, the people embrace it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Written In Stars, Haunted By Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> This is a weird idea ok and it does have death (evident by the au tbh) BUT it's not that sad and I think it may be an interesting read so???

It’s a world where your soulmate’s last words to you are printed on your skin, but Phil doesn’t know any different. And instead of living in fear, the people embrace it. It is a walking reminder that death is around every corner, let’s them appreciate life more; and it also shows how everyone has a soulmate, someone who will remain with them — until death, most likely. It’s how they live, and it’s never been any different.  
The words are different for each person; some in swirling fonts that trail over their ribcage, others in block capitals that trail under their wrist. Sometimes, Phil catches sight of black ink squirming under people’s sleeves, while he clings on to his mother’s hand as they amble down the street. He will strain his neck to follow them, to see that they are smiling and laughing with someone — their soulmate.  
And sometimes, they will be alone. And even when it’s summer, Phil will spot crystalline water dripping down their cheeks.  
Phil always finds himself staring down at his trouser leg, knowing that faint grey is burrowing into his skin in the form of unknown letters, and he wonders what they will bring with them.  
-  
The words intrigue Phil. When he’s having a bath, he’ll wriggle around so he can catch a glimpse of them. They start faint for everyone, so all Phil will see is the dusty grey.  
And when he can’t sleep, Phil will grab his torch and burrow under the covers. His eyes will scrunch up and he has to repeatedly flick his hair out of the way, but he will make out some letters under the orange light. It gets easier, as he gets older. When he’s six, he makes out some letters, all emaciated and scrawled but strangely opulent.  
"P…R…O…U…D" Phil whispers to himself. He reads it over again. "Proud." Phil doesn’t know what the word means, but he knows that one day he’ll find out, and when he does, he’ll always remember.  
-  
No one speaks about their words. Phil gets to high school, and he finds out how teenage boys boast and yell and tease and flirt, but no one talks of the words printed in their skin, now completely visible and comprehensible. People start pairing off early, and he starts to be left alone. Phil both craves and dreads the moment he finds his soulmate: it’ll be a beginning, a great one, but it will also be the beginning of the end.  
-  
They meet when Phil is twenty three, between the dripping stone of the underpass who’s walls are graffitied just like Phil’s skin. It’s a storm; rain leaps out of rumbling clouds and rampages down the streets under the power of a terrible wind. It splashes under Phil’s feet even though he’s found shelter. He finds another figure, also drenched from the early wrath of the weather. They’ve both forgotten umbrellas, it seems, and the first thing they do when they see each other is laugh at their own stupidity. In the flickering light Phil can make out a wide smile, bright eyes and a dimple in tanned cheeks.  
"I’m Dan."  
"I’m Phil."  
And they start talking, keep talking even when the rain fades away and their hair begins to curl as it dries. Because this is a world where love is written in the rules of astrology, though it is concluded before it can begin. And Phil thinks it’s the beginning of the end, and he’s not sure how he feels about it.  
-  
They first kiss under a lamppost in the same rain that brought them together. Phil shivers from cold as they press their lips together hesitantly, and Dan wraps his coat round the both of them. The words burn red hot against the cold of the water; all Phil can do is press harder, cling to Dan with some tendril of hope.  
-  
Now he has his soulmate, Phil avoids the words. Dan refuses to see them, too, which is good because it would shape their future and make it certain — so Phil avoids Dan’s, too. But when they lie in bed Phil can see the words, painfully bright against Phil’s pale skin. They start from his knee and trickle downwards, ending round his ankle. His eyes flicker away but he knows each curve and gap off by heart. And he stiffens in Dan’s grip but then Dan cups Phil’s cheek and brings his eyes to meet his own. He covers Phil’s words for him and it’s okay, it’s okay.  
-  
'Proud' always sticks with Phil. It fits in the gaps of his mind, and whenever he sees Dan it flashes in front of him. He thinks it could be a good thing. Because it means him and Dan live happily, and that's good. It's good because Phil craves the taste of Dan's lips against his, craves his touch when he pulls Phil closer, craves his smile like it's his goddamn lifeline.  
And maybe it is.  
And that’s why it’s bad. It’s threatening because no one knows when the words will come, and everyone dreads them secretly. And Phil doesn’t know if those words will leave Dan’s lips in two days time, or sixty years time. And he doesn’t want it to happen, not soon, (not ever) because it will mean they’re leaving everything.  
-  
They start to grow, as people and as a couple. They do so much; their jobs are amazing and they meet so many people, make so many friends. And the words pose as some confirmation because sometimes Dan is sad, hopeless, doubtful, but the words prove that he eventually will love himself and his efforts.  
Dan comes home with a new achievement and a bright smile, and Phil holds him closer that night.  
-  
Dan starts getting sick. They don’t notice, at first; it’s just small headaches and lie ins. But the headaches become migraines, become pain that blinds Dan and makes him sob into Phil’s shoulder; the lie ins become hours in bed, spent with Phil watching Dan as he lies vulnerable to the world. He doesn’t know what to do.  
-  
Months, at the most. That’s what they’re told, and they share a look. They don’t say it, don’t say it outside the hospital nor that night whilst they’re doused in moonlight because neither can be bothered to shut the blinds. But they both think it.  
The words are creeping up on them, much sooner than they could ever predict.  
-  
Dan starts spending nights in hospital. And it’s not fair, it’s not fair and all Phil can do is what he spent his childhood doing: looking at the haunting words drilled into his skin and his mind. But this time he loathes them and tears splash onto his skin. He wishes they would wash away the ink that’s left there, but they don’t, of course they don’t. The words glow ever stronger in the light. And Phil needs Dan to distract him, to take his gaze away — but Dan is the reason he’s looking in the first place, and he’s not there to help him.  
And Phil isn’t there to help Dan. And that hurts even more.  
-  
Time starts tottering on the edge of the boundaries the doctors had set. The hospital is Dan’s home, now; his bedside table is ridden with books and flowers and tear dotted tissues. Phil walks hurriedly through the corridor because this time it’s urgent. The boundaries crawl ever closer and the words come with it.  
The white corridors burn Phil’s eyes. Everything is pristine and perfect and it almost resembles the idea of heaven. But it’s not heaven. The angels are doctors that only bring bad news, and heaven promises help and safety and happiness; all the hospital can offer is the curse of death.  
And, boy, does Phil know it.  
Dan’s lying in the bed in a mess of covers like always. His skin is pale and his smile is weak as he greets Phil. And they both know that this could be it. And they talk and tiptoe round the subject but the machine next to Dan starts to slow as Dan’s voice drops in volume, as his grip on Phil’s hand starts to weaken. The doctors stand behind them, clearly anxious and worried. And Phil’s heart is threatening to burst as he squeezes Dan’s hand a little tighter.  
"I love you." Dan smiles wistfully as his voice starts to crack, words struggling to escape into the air. And Phil starts to cry, tears cascading down his face and all he can think about is the rain and the storm.  
"Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine." Phil’s heart drops because these are the words which have taken unwanted residence in his life. This is the end and it’s so weird to hear them, and it’s almost a finally but it’s a ‘no, this can’t be happening’. Phil can’t speak so he just runs his shaking fingers through Dan’s matted hair. Dan lets his eyes shut for a moment and Phil panics — then remembers that this isn’t the end. There’s more to say. Dan must know that these are his last words, and he chooses them carefully as he uses his energy to tangle his fingers with Phil’s.  
"And, Phil? I’m proud of us." His words stumble and the tears are here now.  
That’s it, that’s the last of the words that trail off at Phil’s ankle.  
There’s some small victory, because all Phil’s wanted is for Dan to see how great he is. But it also carries the loss, the loss Phil has always thought those last, cheerful words could bring.  
Phil’s never thought about what his last words are. They’ve always been hidden under Dan’s collar. Now it’s his chance to find out.  
"So am I, Dan. We’ve done amazing and it’s down to you, it’s always been you. And I’m so thankful."  
Dan’s heartbeat stills and Phil wonders when he lost consciousness, when Phil was blocked out.  
And as Dan’s hand goes limp his gown shifts, and Phil spots the ink across his bone. He gently lifts the fabric and can see his words, the words just spoken, all curved as they flow into one another, tangled like their fingers.  
It’s a world where your soulmate’s last words to you are printed on your skin, and Phil’s never hated that more. But the words also prove something, because it means Dan has always known them, and it means the words are spoken to him, not some unconscious corpse.  
It means Dan’s heard him, and it means Phil’s not imagining the small smile on Dan’s pale cheeks.  
-  
When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.


End file.
